the (real) practice

The following was one of the stories I shared during Week 1 of the Chickadee Road :: Studio Sessions last fall. Throughout the Studio Sessions, Kelly and I give some real glimpses into our own practices because as you know, I believe that it is okay to tell the true stories.

*****

September, 2012

As soon as Kelly and I brainstormed the Studio Sessions and came up with a start date, I began to envision how my first morning of my practice would unfold.

I would get up, get my two-year-old Ellie ready for school, Jon would take her, and then I would change into my yoga clothes and head out to my studio ready to spend about 30 minutes doing yoga. Then I would tuck into the couch and the words would just drip out of me as I would write a morning poem. And it would unfold like this each day because we were creating space for me to reconnect to the yogi within and the poet who longs to write more words each day. Reconnecting to the person I missed when every morning was filled with taking care of a little one with not much time for me.

But then Ellie woke up in such a bad mood. She wouldn't eat. She didn't want to get dressed. She was literally weeping in her bowl of oatmeal. I ended up letting her wear her pajama top to school. She cried. A lot. And then Jon bookended the experience by being in a really bad mood too and losing his patience several times. I kept breathing and focusing on what needed to happen to get them out the door so that Jon wouldn't be late to work.

When they left, I stood in the middle of our suddenly very quiet kitchen thinking that there was no way this exhausted in need of a shower to wake up and some food in her belly mama was going to head straight to her studio for poetry and yoga.

So I made breakfast and then showered and tweaked the day a bit. I let go of my vision and instead just committed to breathing and writing a few words.

When I made it to my studio, I lit a candle and then went to grab my yoga mat. It was no where to be found. Deep breath. I let it go and just got onto the floor into child's pose because my body was longing for it. 

Until I got into child's pose and found myself totally uncomfortable. 

The mind chatter was getting louder, but I pushed myself to treat myself as though I was my own student. Gently reminding my body how to stretch and how to move to get comfortable and reconnect with my breath.

Yes.

I eventually eased into child's pose and stayed there until I began to melt into the carpet.

Yes. This.

Then I chanted and sat in the quiet for a few minutes.

I ended the practice by letting my poet self write a few notes as I drank tea and ate a piece of dark chocolate.

It wasn't ideal. It didn't look like the world of the yoginis and writers I see online (or make up in my own head). But it was my practice. It was what I needed. And it was a beginning. A first day. 

*****

The Studio Sessions begin Monday! Join Kelly Barton and me for the Chickadee Road :: Studio Sessions, a four-week adventure into creative practices with a community of kindred spirits.

The premise of the sessions is that you choose a creative practice, from cooking to art journaling to yoga to writing (the possibilites are endless really). Then each day we send you little "lessons" and stories via email while you also you gather with like-minded souls for support, encouragement, and community.

Throughout the four weeks Kelly and I share glimpses into our studios and practices, a few tools we use each day, and other really good things. There will also be two live video chats (available by recording for those who can't be there) where we'll share stories and answer questions.

We'd love to have you join the incredible group of kindreds already coming along. This is really going to be good!  

Find out more and register here. And feel free to send over any questions. 

one of those dreams do come true moments

photo of Darren Rowse from the official WDS photos by Joshua Seaman

When I went to WDS earlier this month, I didn't expect to have a "dreams come true" moment. Actually, I thought I would have a good time because I loved listening to the speakers last year and I thought they would be inspiring again, but I had already decided I probably wouldn't want to go back again because, wow, 3000 people was going to feel like a lot, probably too much.

It is so good to be wrong sometimes.

Instead, this group of almost 3000 people felt like one of the most open-hearted, real, delightful, truly amazing group of people I've ever been around.

And I'm not kidding.

Now on to the dream part.

Darren Rowse was the second speaker on Saturday. Wisdom + vulnerability + real stories of when things weren't going so great and how that brought him to this place of living his dreams were just the right blend of, well, awesome that I needed to hear.

The topic of living your dreams can run the risk of being "cheesy" (even though I believe cheesy is often an access point to vulnerability). Too much about "living your dreams" can just not apply to your audience because sometimes stories of dreams coming true are filled with "luck" and "the people you know" instead of actual examples of working hard and staying open even when it seems impossible and so on.

Darren's talk had me laughing and tearing up and feeling my heart crack open even more when it comes to a few big dreams I've been holding close and talking around for a long time. And when he asked us to turn to the person next to us and share a dream we have, I turned to Lori and these words tumbled out, "I want to give speeches in front of audiences of 3000 people." And quietly, to myself, I added, "I want to remind them that they aren't alone as they find their way."

I remember Lori said something like, "I really believe you are on your way to living that dream Liz." 

Then Claire Bowditch came on stage and sang, "Amazing Life," and I couldn't stop the tears (guessing I wasn't alone.)

About 30 minutes later, we were back in our seats after a break when Chris shared we would be seeing the trailers for the two movies that would play during breakout sessions at WDS.

My body stilled completely for a second as I processed this. The Indie Kindred trailer would be playing. On the huge screen. In front of 3000 people. Right now.

As in I was about to tell 3000 people that they will feel less alone when they open themselves up and tell their stories.

Somehow I had missed this on the schedule.

so that's my little family on the big screen at WDS. yep.

And there I was alongside the other amazing women in the film...walking with my family to our favorite bakery...sharing my secret dream of having t-shirts with "poet" on them so we can recognize one another...and talking about the magic that happens when you share your story through your art, your music, your words...how that will help you feel less alone.

Yes.

So that was something. 

Dream come true. Check.

But here's the best part of the story. As I was tearing up and having this moment, my husband was sending me two texts.

The edited version reads like this:

Transitions are ******* hard today.

But she's using the big potty again.

Because this is what life is: beautiful and real. There is the beauty and the shit. There are big dreams coming true alongside real lives being lived. We are all human doing our human thing. We are all finding our way. 

Yes.

So big dreams are coming true over here. Ellie is learning and using the big potty. I am continuing to find different ways to tell my story and create space for others to do the same. And really, we are all finding our way together.

Gosh I love this life.

***

Director of Indie Kindred and my dear friend Jen is currently on the road in an awesome blend of beauty and real as she takes her two girls with her on a trip to show the film in cities around the US. Check here to see if there is a showing near you. 

And WDS really was that great. As in I'm already signed up to go again next year. There are lots of other stories from attendees that can you read here. Next wave of signups will be this fall. You should come.

a moment

Because sometimes when the day starts out upside down, I have to force myself to notice the good. And this happened one day last week.

Instead of just pushing through, I admitted I was having a hard day. And suddenly we were all getting back in bed with graham crackers + peanut butter + the whole family (with the dog snoring on the floor beside us) and I was reminded that I really am loved.

(Sometimes you have to ask for that support to remember. And that is okay. In fact, I think it can save your life.)

I hope you remember you are loved today. Yes.

living in an instagrammed world

One topic I want to talk about more when I circle with women this year is how we move through the world now that social media is part of our everyday lives. We are at the forefront of figuring this out with little to no trail behind us to help us navigate. I believe that we will find our way by having conversations about it all, while also sitting in the quiet and listening to what is best for each of us.

I've talked a little about this from the perspective of how we live an entire world outside of our Facebook statuses and I often bring up the truth that we never really know the full story when we see snippets of someone's day online. I also think we fill in the blanks with our own assumptions, which is something I tend to do when I am pretty depleted and not practicing self-care. I can go from cheering on a friend or colleague on Facebook one day to feeling jealous or "not enough" when seeing a similar status the next day.

Today, I want to tell the story of this photo of Ellie that I Instagrammed last Friday. It was taken in the middle of our messy family room during our Friday evening "movie night" while we had picnic on the pullout sofa. One of her new favorite things is looking through my poetry books and pretending to "read" them. She sometimes just turns the pages quickly, and other times she reads the letters out loud or makes up her own words. 

When I put this photo up on Instagram, I wrote: She's been "reading" my books lately. Tonight it's Elizabeth Bishop's poetry. "I'm reading Poet Trees Mama!!!" And she's pointing out the question marks and tiddles. #notkidding #tiddleisthedotabovethei

After I posted it, I had a tiny nagging feeling that it might read like I was boasting about my brilliant daughter.

But if you jumped to that assumption, you would be missing a lot of pieces of our story: Ellie Jane didn't start saying any words until she started pre-school last fall. She was 2 years and 4 months old when she started using about 15-20 words to communicate. 

Everywhere you go as a new parent, they tell you "Two year olds should have 50 words when they turn two or you should be worried." When she said about two words at almost two (and we felt like we had evidence of her regressing since she seemed to have more words at 18 months), I took her to a speech therapist. She didn't think anything was "wrong" but was concerned about Ellie not having any words based on how clearly she seemed to understand. When I played the "speech therapy homework" games with Ellie, she would look at me like, "Have you lost your mind? This is bizarre. Talk to me like you usually do please." Or she would start laughing. I'm not kidding.

So I just went with my intuition and we didn't return for a third visit to the therapist and I stopped doing the games. Most days last summer were about trying not to get as frustrated as she was. And then she went to school and we quickly went from single words to three words together to full stories in just a few weeks. 

But there were several months there when she didn't say anything and we couldn't help but wonder if we were finally seeing the potential long-term effects of her heart problems. 

And each day I stand in the gratitude that this doesn't seem to be the case.

But here is the piece I really want you to hear today: Over the last three years, I've seldom shared Ellie's newest milestone, especially in short snippets on social media, because I've thought about all the moms out there who would give anything for their child to talk or run or clearly express emotions.

Because I was that mom for the first two years of Ellie's life. Willing her to gain weight. Hoping I was making the right choices. Feeding her things like chicken nuggets and milk shakes and not wanting you to know because I didn't want to be judged. Trying not to burst into tears each time another mom posted a photo of her baby's adorably kissable chunky thighs that Ellie would never have because she was always at less than 5% for weight because of her heart problems. (If you are new to this space, it is helpful to know that our daughter had open-heart surgery at four months old and was on medication for a separate heart issue for the first two years of her life.)

I didn't want to invite other moms to feel like I did in those moments when I wished we could just have a "normal" experience.

And along the way this spilled over into other areas of my life. I don't often share the celebrations about my business because I worry about the jealousy that can seem to be really present sometimes in our creative community. Or I worry that someone will begin to assume we are somehow rolling in money over here because one of my retreats sells out, when that person has no idea of what our financial situation is because those details are too personal for a blog or Facebook status. 

I've even noticed myself not wanting to share the details of a really happy moment because I'm trying to be responsible for other people's feelings instead of letting them take care of themselves. I tend to share these moments like this Facebook status from a few weeks ago: This update could just say: homemade pizza in the oven, folk music in the air, Ellie and Jonny chatting and playing at the table. But those words would not convey how darn hard it is to be a parent and partner sometimes. Trying to just really notice when the beauty sneaks in amidst the everyday chaos.

It is important to note that I haven't felt like I've been stifling my stories. I share stories here and on Instagram every day. But, these pieces are still a part of my journey with social media and I think it is helpful to know that someone like me who shares a lot each day feels this way too.

And it isn't as though I think we shouldn't share the celebrations. Do I want mamas of healthy babies not to post their happy photos? NO! I want to see those happy chubby babies in my Instagram feed. Do I mean that I don't want my friends to celebrate their businesses and lives. NO! I am actually saying the opposite here.

But I think we need to have conversations about how to navigate all of this.

As I think about my experiences with social media during the last few years, and even the last few months, I've come to these three beliefs that I'm continually looking at:

1) We have to be able to find our way in telling the truths of our own stories (from the big truths to the every day little stories) while being mindful of others who will be reading them in the middle of their day. Pausing before posting and just thinking about it all feels like one way to navigate this "instant sharing" many of us do daily. Maybe beginning to to integrate more kindness, toward ourselves and others, before we click "share" is a place to begin. 

2) We need to begin to notice if we are actually experiencing the beauty of our lives while documenting it. Taking time to notice if I'm sharing details more than experiencing my life gives me clues about how I'm using social media. Can I really be experiencing a gorgeous day with friends if I'm spending half the time letting my Instagram buddies know every detail? Am I listening to my child tell a story if I'm interupting to say, "Wait, I just really want everyone to see how cute you look right now?" Only I know the answer to these and similar questions. 

3) And then I think we have to be responsible for the way we navigate other people's stories. Maybe this means checking in more to see if this is really the right moment to check Facebook. Maybe this means going outside and taking five deep breaths when you notice yourself doing the "Check email. Check Facebook. Check Twitter. Check Pinterest. Check Instagram. Check other email. Repeat." dance on your phone. Maybe this means putting up a sticky note next to your laptop that says, "We all have a story." Or "Are you in the right space to respond to this?" Or simply "Check yourself." We talk about how teenagers are wasting time on social media or hurting one another and themselves, when we are doing this too...perhaps in different ways, but it is there. 

These are the conversations I want to have and I hope you will join me. Let's come from a place of truth and love and an openness to understanding as we find our way together. I'm interested in hearing your thoughts just as I hope you will be open to mine.

Thanks for reading and being out there sharing your stories and walking beside me.

Blessings,
Liz 

over here

we found a new to us park

and looked out on Puget Sound while she slept

we created our own board game (love Kiwi Crate!)

I've been playing with beads I've had since high school 

my new iphone cases arrived. with my own images + words. love them.

there has been a lot of coloring + fruit consumption

and adventuring wearing her new favorite hat from Grandma Fina

also four months of Project Life catch up has begun (post to come soon. OH and I love the "a beautiful mess" app. big.)

and we are finding time to notice us

A note from earlier today: I'm sitting in the family room, favorite purple afghan tucked around me, listening to Jon and Ellie chatter away as they play at the kitchen table. There is folk music on in the background, and I'm soaking up the simplicity of it all as the rain falls and I wonder what the day will hold. 

Sometimes you have to pause and really sink into the simple moments and how they make your heart feel. in this moment, I felt truly happy.

This isn't about pretending to have a perfect life. Or not standing in the thick of the tough stuff.

This is about gently pushing yourself to pay attention in the in-between spaces to find the joy, the beauty, the realness.

And for me, it's a lot about choosing love again and again.